


Man of Honor

by Inell



Series: 2017 Prompt Challenge [29]
Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Awkward Stiles Stilinski, Derek Hale & Kira Yukimura Friendship, Detective Stiles, First Meetings, Flirting, Future Vee Relationship Hinted At, Graduate Student Kira Yukimura, Historian Derek Hale, Lydia Martin & Stiles Stilinski Friendship, Lydia Martin & Stiles Stilinski are Siblings, Minor Cora Hale/Lydia Martin, Multi, Polyamory Negotiations, Step-siblings but still
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-28
Updated: 2017-01-28
Packaged: 2018-09-20 12:40:45
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,454
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9491333
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Inell/pseuds/Inell
Summary: When Stiles attends Lydia’s wedding, he doesn’t expect to meet two people who are perfect for him. He definitely doesn’t expect them to suggest an unorthodox solution to the dilemma, either.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Anonymous said: From your prompts we’re at a friend’s wedding and we happen to be the few single ones without dance partners Kira/Stiles/Derek only if you feel like it
> 
> I really hope you enjoy my take on this prompt, Nonnie! Fic #29 in my 2017 Prompt Challenge

Lydia is a beautiful bride. The dress that she took _six months_ trying to find fits her perfectly, and her smile is so radiant that her happiness is probably visible to residents of a galaxy far, far away. Her new wife, Cora, is also gorgeous, though she went for a chic suit with skinny pants that are almost too tight, in Stiles’ opinion. He can see that she’s not wearing underwear, which is more than he really wants to know about his brand new sister-in-law.

Of course, Lydia doesn’t seem to mind that little fact judging by the way she can’t seem to keep her hands off Cora’s butt, but Stiles is still somewhat surprised that Cora would be that daring at a wedding attended by hundreds of people. Well, not _hundreds_ , but there’s definitely a lot of people here. Stiles doesn’t know most of them, since he’s been living in Brooklyn since joining the NYPD after graduating Berkeley nearly seven years ago. These are Lydia and Cora’s friends, some from college and others from San Francisco or Beacon Hills. Quite a few of them are Hales, too, though Stiles hasn’t had a chance to properly meet any of those yet.

His flight got delayed out of JFK last night, so he barely arrived with enough time to put on the tuxedo that Lydia had waiting for him and to stand beside her as Man of Honor. It’s a title she insisted he take despite the fact that he’d only been able to help her wedding dress shop long distance via Skype and text. The cake testing had also been long distance, since Lydia had insisted he try the options and had overnighted samples that she and Cora liked the most. She’s managed to make him feel like a part of her wedding even with a country separating them, and he loves her for that even if he feels a bit out of place being a part of the wedding party when he hasn’t been active in the preparations.

Cora’s sister, Laura, is the Woman of Honor, and there’s a cousin, Malia, and a smoking hot guy that keeps staring at Stiles then glaring at Cora’s back when he gets caught, making up the rest of her party. Lydia has Stiles, Allison, who’s been her best friend since before their parents even got married and made her and Stiles step-siblings, Danny, who looks way better in a tux than Stiles does, and a pretty girl he’s never met but was quickly identified as Kira before the ceremony started. He at least knows Allison and Danny from high school, but the rest are strangers. He tried to find out smoking hot guy’s name, but Allison just dimpled at him and poked him in the side before hissing at him to be quiet.

Now, he’s trying hard not to tear up because Lydia’s so damn happy it’s almost nauseating, and the vows she and Cora gave were sassy and heartfelt in a way that makes him realize just how long it’s been since he’s had anyone in his life that he could sass and love like that. He’s totally fine being single, and he does date occasionally, but no one really seems to click these days, so he doesn’t stress over it. Trust a wedding to make him question his own happiness and wonder if single and free is his destiny instead of sass and love.

When the brides kiss, Stiles clears his throat and carefully wipes his thumb across the bottom of his left eye. No crying here. Nope. He’s not some romantic sap who cries at weddings. Except he totally _is_ , and he doesn’t care because masculinity stereotypes are toxic. Men can cry, and he totally supports that. Still, he’s glad it’s a happy cry and not a gross face flushing snotty cry. When Lydia turns and smiles at him, he grins so wide that he’s surprised his face doesn’t split open.

“Congrats, Sis,” he whispers into her hair as he hugs her tight.

“I’m glad you made it,” she whispers, tightening her grip before brushing her lips under his ear. She straightens up and looks picture perfect, eyes shining but no tears ruining her mascara, and then she’s pulling Cora out of the embrace of her bridal party and tugging her down the aisle.

Stiles watches them walk, listening to the applause and catcalls from a few rowdier guests. He shakes his head before he follows them, walking beside Laura and being careful not to mess up Lydia’s bouquet. They step outside into the bright sunlight, and he tries to remember the directions he’d been given. He knows that Lydia and Cora have a reception planned nearby, so they’re expected to be there as soon as possible for pictures and food and celebrating the whole finally married thing.

Since he had to catch a cab here from the airport, he waits until everyone’s clapping at Cora and Lydia leaving before he sneaks back into the venue. He left his suitcase there, so he grabs that before heading back outside to look for Allison or Danny. Only, by the time he’s back outside, most the guests have wandered off to the parking lot so they can drive to the reception. There are a few people within shouting distance, but no one that he actually knows or thinks would be willing to give him a lift.

“Well, fuck. Life imitates the movies, only Stiles gets the short end of the stick because there’s no Jake Ryan with a hot ass car waiting for him,” Stiles mutters, putting his suitcase down and pulling his phone out of his pocket.

“You know, even if that movie was cute, it reinforces Asian stereotypes in a way that isn’t at all adorable.”

“What?” Stiles turns and sees Kira standing there smiling at him. “Oh, hey.”

Kira arches a brow and smiles. “What’s happening, hot stuff?”

“Ouch. Yeah, I concede your point and acknowledge that many of the classic feel good films of the eighties have some major issues with lack of social awareness,” Stiles admits, looking at her curiously. "While the racial stereotyping is rampant, I find the whole date rape slash passing your drunk girlfriend off to some other guy because you don’t want her anymore yet you’re still the hero of the film somehow to be just as distasteful and pretty damn gross.”

“You’re Stiles,” she says, reaching out a hand. “Lydia’s told me a lot about you, including the habit of analyzing pop culture for feministic ideals that you and she did as teenagers.”

“Yeah, you probably want to think twice before watching cheesy old movies with me.” Stiles shrugs. “Or maybe you don’t because there’s such a thing as enjoying something for entertainment’s sake but also being able to identify that it is flawed and has issues.” He smiles. “Anyway, you’re Kira. Lydia’s told me…nothing about you, I have to admit, but that’s probably because she talks about Cora usually when we have our Skype dates. Or she’s busy critiquing my lack of relationship and worrying that I’m lonely living in Brooklyn on my own.”

“Kira, are you planning to come to the reception or—oh.” The smoking hot guy from Cora’s bridal party steps around the corner of the building and stops walking when he sees them.

“Sorry, Derek. I ran into Stiles, and we got to talking about eighties movies.” Kira gives the hot guy— _Derek_ —a sheepish smile. “I didn’t realize I’d kept you waiting that long.”

“No, it’s fine.” Derek looks at Stiles before ducking his head. “But we should probably go before Cora and Lydia start texting us demanding to know where we are.”

“Do you need a ride?” Kira asks. “I know you got here straight from the airport because Lydia’s been cursing American Airlines and taxi services all morning.”

“I wouldn’t want to, uh, impose.” Stiles is trying to come to grips with the fact that _of course_ the cute girl is dating the hot guy. That’s how his luck goes, after all. Still, Kira seems pretty great, so Stiles is totally up for making a new friend.

“You wouldn’t be.” Derek drags his fingers through his hair, mussing up the carefully styled strands. “Imposing, I mean.”

Kira stares at Derek for a moment before her eyes widen. “Oooh,” she whispers before biting her lip.

“Sorry,” Derek mutters, giving her an awkward look. “I can just…not.”

“No! Derek, it’s totally fine. I mean, how could you not?” Kira grins before looking at Stiles, who has a feeling he isn’t doing well hiding his confusion. “So, about that ride?”

“Sure. That’d be great.” Stiles picks up his suitcase and follows them to the parking lot. Derek walks up to a sleek black Camaro, and Stiles can’t help but whistle. “That’s a sexy car.”

“It’s Laura’s,” Derek says, glancing at him then looking away. His ears look red, which Stiles finds intriguing. Is he blushing? Because Stiles whistled?

“She’s got good taste in cars then,” Stiles says, reaching out to caress the curve of the hood. “I just have an old Jeep that belonged to my mom. My dad keeps it garaged for me, though, since I don’t need a car in Brooklyn.”

“You live in Brooklyn?” Derek stares at him across the top of the car, and Stiles sees a hint of teeth when Derek smiles slightly. “I live in the East Village.”

“Seriously?” Stiles has a few buddies on the force who live in the East Village, so he’s lurked around that area before. “I live in Brooklyn Heights. My captain hooked me up with an affordable rental in exchange for keeping an eye on his mom, who actually owns the house. I rent an upstairs apartment conversion from her, and it’s cheaper than anything I was able to find.”

“I actually live in Greenwich Village.” Kira grins. “Near NYU. I’m doing my doctorate in history there, which is how I met Derek.”

“Wow. What a small world.” Stiles looks from her to Derek. “You’re in grad school, too?”

“Not anymore. I finished a couple of years ago.” Derek smiles at Kira. “She tracked me down because a former professor mentioned my interest in local history to her. I actually work for the New York Historical Society, in the Center for Women’s History. I help conduct workshops and do research for a book I’m working on.”

“He’s pretty brilliant,” Kira confides, winking at Derek, who ducks his head and totally has ear blush going on. “Cora suggested I reach out to him when I moved for grad school, and my professor referenced him, too. You know, Lydia told me you lived nearby, but I haven’t had a chance to call.”

“God, if Lydia told you to call me, it was probably some misguided attempt at matchmaking.” Stiles makes a face. “She probably didn’t realize you two are together, so just ignore her. Alright?”

“Together?” Derek frowns. “We aren’t together. Not like _that_.”

“Yeah, Derek’s great and extremely handsome, but he and I aren’t dating or anything.” Kira looks at Stiles and huffs a laugh. “I’ve been flirting with you, Stiles. Why would I do that in front of my boyfriend?”

“You have?” Stiles blinks at her. “With me?”

“Damn it. There’s Cora,” Derek mutters, looking at his phone. “We’re being summoned.”

“It’s just down the block, so we’ll get there fast.” Kira opens the door to the car and starts to climb in the back.

“Dude, you’ll mess up your pretty dress getting back there. It’s too small.” Stiles pushes the seat back. “If it’s real close, just ride on my lap until we get there.”

“Now who’s flirting?” Kira smiles before looking at Derek. Her smile dims slightly as Derek opens the trunk and puts Stiles’ suitcase inside, slamming it shut with a lot more force than necessary. She sighs before giving Stiles a small smile. “Thanks for not making me climb in back.”

“Is he okay?” Stiles whispers, feeling like he’s done something wrong. “Are you sure you two aren’t dating?”

“We’re really not,” Kira promises. “We’ve become good friends, but it’s not anything romantic. I mean, it _could_ be, maybe, because we have a lot in common and he’s definitely attractive, but it just hasn’t clicked that way for us. You know?”

“Yeah, I understand that,” he says, thinking about his own friendship with Jordan Parrish, one of the guys he works with at the station. “Better as friends.”

“More like…Derek and I have the same taste in guys?” Kira winks before shoving Stiles into the front seat of the car.

Derek’s already in the driver’s seat, his jaw tense, and his fingers clenched around the steering wheel. “Thanks for finally joining me,” he snarks, his eyebrows totally glaring at them as Kira settles onto Stiles’ lap.

“Lydia told me you’re a cop, Stiles. Do you enjoy that?” Kira asks after a silent conversation with Derek that Stiles doesn’t even attempt to follow.

“Yeah, it’s good. I made detective a couple of years ago, and that’s a lot more challenging than what I did first.” Stiles is careful about where he puts his hands, since he’s got a pretty girl sitting on his lap and a gorgeous guy glowering beside him. “What are you studying at NYU?”

The drive to the hotel where the reception is being held doesn’t take that long, especially with Kira talking about her thesis and Derek grudgingly adding his commentary about different historical aspects. Stiles learns that Kira’s love of history comes from her father, a high school teacher, and that Derek’s comes from his grandmother, who is still a major political activity in DC despite being in her seventies.

When they arrive at the hotel, Stiles decides to rent a room for the night because he isn’t in the mood to drive all the way to Beacon Hills when his flight back home leaves tomorrow afternoon. He’s seeing his dad and Natalie enough during the wedding to get him through until the holidays. Instead of going straight to the ballroom to join the reception, Derek and Kira follow him to the desk. The woman working there looks at both of them then at him and winks.

“Yeah, I know. Lucky man, aren’t I?” he asks, playing along with her mistake because he’s definitely going to enjoy the fact some stranger thinks he’s good enough to be banging both of them.

“Stop chatting and get our room key, baby,” Kira purrs against his ear, leaning against his back and smiling at the front desk attendant.

“You know he can’t help flirting with everyone, Kira,” Derek drawls, leaning into Stiles and, holy fuck, that was a pinch. To his ass. Stiles drops the pen he’s holding and gapes at Derek, who just _pinched his ass_.

“I’ll get you two extra keys, sir,” the attendant says, biting her lip to keep from laughing. She’s probably going to gossip about them when they leave, Stiles realizes, but he shouldn’t be upset because he’d been playing along. He just didn’t expect Kira and Derek to join the fun.

“Oh, don’t bother,” Derek says, giving her a smoldering look that makes Stiles have to wipe his mouth to make sure he isn’t actually drooling. “We don’t plan to leave the room once we get him there.”

“Forgive them. They’re still new to all this,” Stiles says quickly, taking the keycard and passing over the signed form. “Thanks for, uh, being so accepting.”

“Love is love.” The attendant—Tina, according to her nameplate—says with a wide smile. “I’ve put in an order for champagne and strawberries to room service for you. My treat. Enjoy your stay at the Meridian.”

“Thanks, Tina.” Stiles turns and gives Kira and Derek both _a look_ before walking past them. They catch up with him near the ballroom, and he just shakes his head. “What was that about?”

“You’re into both of us, and we both want you.” Kira grins. “Since we’re all single, we don’t really see a problem that can’t be fixed pretty easily. We’re both adults who know how to share, after all.”

“There you are!” Lydia interrupts them before Stiles can stammer out a reply. She looks him over before pursing her lips. “What did you do? You look guilty.”

“Nothing!” Stiles squeaks then clears his throat. “I’m innocent. I haven’t done anything.”

“Lies! You’re always up to something.” Lydia makes him put his suitcase down then drags him onto the dance floor. “Why are Kira and Derek looking at you like you’re the main course at an all you can eat buffet?”

“What?” Stiles steps on her toes and narrows his eyes when she just beams at him.

“That’s what I thought.” Lydia makes a thoughtful humming noise. “You know, it’s certainly unconventional, but I can see it. You can never find anyone you want to date more than a couple of times because you have such specific ideals, but both of them together would be your perfect person.”

“It’s not like that. Good God, Lydia. I just met them.” Stiles huffs and pouts at her. “And stop acting like I need two people to keep me satisfied or fulfilled or whatever. It’s weird.”

“It’s not weird. Just different.” Lydia kisses his cheek. “And there’s nothing wrong with possibly needing—or even wanting—two people to make you happy. You don’t _have_ to choose unless they make you, Stiles.”

“Go terrorize your wife and stop messing with me,” Stiles mutters when the song ends. “Seriously, though, I love you, and I’ll definitely help conceal the evidence and hide the body if she ever hurts you. Okay?”

“You’re my first call if I ever commit a crime,” Lydia promises, crossing her heart before she looks behind him. “Looks like the only other single people here need a dance partner. You should go help them out, baby brother.”

“A few months older does not mean you can call me that,” Stiles says, falling into the same familiar argument that’s existed since their parents got married when they were in eighth grade. He turns around as he speak, finding Kira and Derek standing by the fruit table. They’re talking and looking in his direction then talking more, and Stiles realizes that Lydia’s right.

He doesn’t have to choose.

With that thought in mind, he walks up to them and holds out both his hands. “So, do you wanna dance?”

“What?” Kira looks at his hands then back at him. “Really? Are you sure?”

“Really.” Stiles nods, knowing what she’s actually asking. “If you’re both willing and able, I am, too.”

“We are.” Derek reaches for his right hand, fingers brushing across his palm before he clasps Stiles’ fingers. “We need to talk about specifics, about rules and other stuff, so no one gets hurt, and we know we just met, so it might not work out at all, but we’re definitely willing.”

“And able.” Kira takes his left hand, entwining her fingers with his. “We talked while you danced, and, yeah. We both want you, Stiles.”

“After Lydia and Cora leave, we can go upstairs to my room to talk and, uh, snack, since I’ll have champagne and strawberries waiting for us.” Stiles steps closer to them and grins. “I’m not sure how we’re going to dance together.”

“I think we’ll find a way,” Kira says, smiling at Derek, who steps up behind Stiles, trapping him between them. “Like this maybe.”

“Or maybe like this sometimes,” Derek murmurs, twisting back around and trading places with Kira, who is now pressed against Stiles’ back while Derek’s moving against his chest.

“Or like this,” Kira suggests, moving so that Derek’s between them, a sly smile on her lips as she strokes Derek’s back down to his ass before slapping it lightly.

“Or maybe even occasionally like this,” Derek says, moving Kira into the middle, pressing her closer to Stiles as they move to the music playing.

“But mostly like this,” Kira decides, stepping to the side slightly and moving against Stiles’ right side while Derek moves into his left. “We’re much better than Jake Ryan, by the way, so you aren’t getting the short end of the stick this time.”

“No, I’m definitely not.” Stiles laughs at the reference to his overheard comment from earlier before he takes their offered hands and squeezes, moving into them and dancing to the music. “I get it,” he says, leaning in to brush his lips against Kira’s cheek before ghosting his mouth along the curve of Derek’s jaw, his beard tickling his lips. “We’ll figure it out as we go.”

**Author's Note:**

> [My Tumblr](http://inell.tumblr.com)


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